


Believer

by thenewnationalanthem (moxielovesshipping)



Series: Sad, Sweet, and Sexy [15]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminal Minds Setting, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Police, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fear, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Kissing, Psychological Horror, Psychological Trauma, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Stabbing, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2018-11-19 15:52:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11316654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moxielovesshipping/pseuds/thenewnationalanthem
Summary: What are you afraid of?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a really long one shot for no reason at all. Hope you enjoy my insanity x.x updates for my ongoing fics in the morning!

 

 

"Please!" He screamed, tugging on the restraints harshly, wincing at the pain shooting through his wrists as he does so. "Let me go..." He says, defeated as he hears oh so familiar footsteps approaching him. He heaves out breaths as he looks up with dim blue eyes, locking eyes with the sociopath that started it all.

 

 

"Oh detective..." He smirked, twirling his knife in his hand and then running it against Jack's exposed, pale skin with a delighted noise. "We both know I can't do that." He frowns as Jack spits in his face, but then he quickly plunges the knife into Jack's leg with no remorse, laughing in his screams as he yanks it back out. "You haven't conquered your fear yet."

 

 

"I hope the police fuckin' find ye and ye ROT IN HELL!" Jack screams and he grits his teeth as Mark rests both of his dirty hands on his legs, applying as much pressure as he can.

 

 

"We shall see. Have fun underground detective. You'll be needing it. Oh, and just in case you get a little...fidgity..." Mark smiles, pulling a syringe from his cart as Jack struggles and shakes. "I have something for that."

 

 

_"_ _Nonono_ please I swear I'll be good Mark ple-" He's cut off by the sharp pain of the syringe and a shush from Mark as his body begins to convulse, eyes rolling to the back of his head as the darkness consumes him.

 

 

8 days.

 

 

8 more days and he's dead.

 

 

He didn't know if he could even live that long.

* * *

"Detective McLoughlin!" Ethan calls out, and Jack smiles up at him as he slides onto his desk with a cup of coffee. Jack graciously takes it, groaning in pleasure as it slides down his throat.

 

 

"May the gods ever bless ye." Jack says, and Ethan laughs, hopping off the desk and sitting down in the chair.

 

 

"Hey, it's what I'm here for! Coffee runs and gossip." Ethan laughs, and Jack raises an eyebrow. "Speaking of gossip, I heard that psychiatric killer struck again."

 

 

"Yeah...this makes five victims now 'nd I still don't know where ta even start to look for clues." Jack sighs, and Ethan leans forward.

 

 

"Don't get yourself down. Even your boss is at a loss on this one, and he's the best in the biz." Ethan smiles, and Jack shakes his head. "You guys will figure this out and catch this guy, I'd bet my hair on that."

 

 

"Yer hair? Jaysus. Ye must mean serious business!" Jack gasps, and Ethan bursts into laughter, standing up and tapping a hand on his desk.

 

 

"I don't kid about my luscious locks. So you better do me proud! I believe in you!" Ethan yells as he leaves, and Jack laughs softly as he pulls a file in front of him.

 

 

The newest victim was Ryder Martin. He was 22 and new to L.A. from Canada. His file said he'd been diagnosed with bipolar depression, and put on medication to help even out his mood swings.

 

 

It was later revealed that Ryder also had an innate fear of darkness, and would often suffer severe night terrors or panic attacks if left alone without light for too long.

 

 

He'd been institutionalized in one instance after he tried to commit suicide via jumping from the roof of his job, claiming that "they were out to get him".

 

 

His cause of death had been suffocation, and his body had been found locked in a coffin, placed carefully in the middle of a park.

 

 

This killer, if anything, was very meticulous, and slightly narcissistic. He _wanted_ people to see the bodies. To _heed_ his warning and to _know_ he existed.

 

 

It was hard to believe that during any of this, he thought he was helping.

 

 

Jack rubbed his face and sat the file down, sighing as he takes another sip of coffee.

 

 

For the _life_ of him, he couldn't figure out a pattern or a motive that was worth his time.

 

 

He knew he was targeting people with innate fears, but nothing else matched up. Genders, burial sites, methods of execution, height, age, looks, social status, everything was _different._

 

 

He was sick of seeing his town on pins and needles with this guy, especially someone they'd never seen a photo of.

 

 

He could be anyone in the crowd, lurking, waiting for his next victim. 

* * *

 

 

When Jack came to, he had been untied from the chair and now he was laying on an examination bed of sorts, blinking his eyes as the fog cleared. His leg still stung immensely, and he found he couldn't move it if he tried.

 

 

"Ah, so you're awake! How are you feeling today, detective?" He hears Mark say, but he doesn't respond. He only braces his body for impact, and breathes. "Not very social are we? That's fine. I can do all of the talking." He continues, then he comes into Jack's line of sight wearing glasses Jack rarely sees, pushing them up on his face as he looks him over. "Your body is building up a tolerance to the sedative I'm giving you. You convulse less and you wake up earlier so that's good news, right?" He says, smiling when Jack only frowned. "Unfortunately, you don't seem to be getting any better mentally. You still scream when I try to leave you in the chamber, even though you know I'm coming back. Your leg is doing well though, barely a scratch." He laughs, and Jack wants to strangle the shit out of him. "I'll get you some food and antibiotics for your wound and then I'll let you have some free time. Does that sound good, Jack?"

 

 

Jack hates when that psycho uses his real name, but he nods anyway, flinching when Mark begins to clap and walk away. If this were 4 days ago, he would have tried to run.

 

 

Scream for help.

 

 

Maybe even attack Mark.

 

 

But he knew now it was useless. So when Mark came back with pills from god knows where and a sandwich with water, he took it greedily, like an animal, and hoped for the best.

 

 

Turns out free time isn't as bad as it seems.

 

 

They were now in a living room setting, still underground though, and Mark had Jack's leg propped up on a table with a pillow as they watched tv.

 

 

_...suspects' name is still unknown, but he is considered to be armed and dangerous. If you have any tips on who may have kidnapped local detective_ _Seàn_ _McLoughlin_ _, please call-_

 

 

"I think that's enough tv for today!" Mark says cheerfully, and Jack wonders why he isn't worried about being caught. Maybe he had thought this through more than Jack knew of. "How about we go take a shower hm? I'll wash your hair!"

 

 

Jack sighed and nodded, holding out his wrists obediently as they're chained together with handcuffs, and letting himself be pulled along to the bathroom, holding back his tears.

 

 

_Someone please...please find me._

 

 

7 days.

 

 

Just 7 more days.

* * *

When he arrived on scene, he nearly vomited.

 

 

In front of them was a body scorched beyond recognition. The sixth victim that 'Doctor Murder' had claimed. The name wasn't Jack's idea, but the media seemed to think it was brilliant. He could disagree.

 

 

"Any ID?" Jack asks Tyler, and he shakes his head.

 

 

"Not even in the slightest. Maybe forensics will have something for us soon, but for now we don't have much to work with." He says, and Jack sighs.

 

 

"Hey! You guys might wanna look at this." Wade says, beckoning Tyler and Jack over near the body were a small charm rested. "It looks like it was left behind by whoever did this."

 

 

Jack squinted his eyes enough to read the lightly engraved numbers on it. "2790? Is that a code or somethin'?" He asks, and both Wade and Tyler shrug.

 

 

"We've never seen him leave anything behind before. We need it dusted for prints immediately." Tyler commanded, and Wade nodded, picking it up carefully with gloved hands and bagging it.

 

 

"What if it's an important date?" Jack asks, and Tyler raises an eyebrow. "Like an anniversary er somethin'."

 

 

"Possibly. We won't rule out the fact of it being some sort of code though, just in case. Does this scenario fit anything else you've seen in the files?"

 

 

Jack huffs and shakes his head, watching as the coroner takes away the body. "Not in a million years would I think that someone could use people seeking help against 'em."

 

 

"The world is a sick place McLoughlin. I'll finish here. You go home and get some rest."

 

 

Jack nodded, waving goodbye to all of his coworkers and getting onto the elevator thinking all of this over.

 

 

Why was he doing this? What type of trauma had he been caused as a child to want to hurt people this way?

 

 

If he had been a professional, his coworkers would have noticed that he had a rapid turnover in clients, right?

 

 

In that case, it probably meant he was no longer employed, or unlicensed. If he was ever licensed at all.

 

 

This meant that they were not only dealing with a sociopath.

 

 

They were dealing with a fraud.

 

 

A dangerous, crazy, fraud.

* * *

 

"You know, the day I lost my job was the hardest day of my life. I mean, excluding the day I almost drowned." Mark says, running soapy hands through Jack's dirty hair. "I guess I deserved it a bit though. Not very reputable when your main psychiatrist is kidnapping and murdering people." He giggled, and Jack remained silent in thought. His leg bad leg was propped up on the side of the tub near Mark's lap as he kneeled down next to him, smiling. "They probably could have let me down easier though."

 

"Is that why you killed all those people?" Jack asks, and Mark slows down his scraping on his scalp for a second. He finds he misses the touch.

 

"At first. Well, at first well it was about revenge. I wanted people to know how it felt to be...crushed by the weight of their own fear. Then I did it out of boredom because...my job wasn't cutting it. But then," Mark says with a small chuckle, pulling Jack's fragile hair so they were making eye contact. "Then I was doing it for you."

 

Jack was nauseous at the sincerity and happiness that came with that sentence, but he fought it down to smile at Mark since he had such a strong grip on him right now. Mark beamed back at him, then let up on his grip to move on to other parts of Jack's body.

 

The water was murky with blood and dirt, and Jack still felt disgusting.

 

He felt used. He felt dirty. He felt criminal.

 

It had been 6 days and noone was any closer to finding him, and he found himself losing hope.

 

His wife must be a wreck right now, and his heart began to hurt. 

 

He thought back to when this all first started. 

 

When he got the first victim Mark ever killed. 

 

Isabelle Prince. 26. French immigrant. Came to the U.S. on business, and was diagnosed with insomnia and somniphobia, the fear of sleep. She was killed by overdosing on sleeping aids, prescribed to her by Mark. 

 

Her death was never ruled murder or suicide, but Jack knew. 

 

Jack knew by the confusion in her husband's eyes when he found her. 

 

Jack knew by the shaky voice of her daughter and son. 

 

Jack knew when he saw the horrified look in her eyes as he body was pulled away onto a stretcher. 

 

Jack knew it was murder. 

 

"So that locket was for me?" He asks, and Mark glows when he brings it up, lifting him out of the tub.

 

"I was honestly surprised when I saw you didn't figure it out right away. I got your birthday right didn't I?" Mark says, and his voice is shaky and nervous.

 

"Of course ye did." Jack smiles harshly, and Mark's expression goes from gloomy to excited in a heartbeat.

 

He's being manhandled again as he's placed in new clothes, recuffed, and brought back down to his cell, where Mark gives him a sad smile.

 

"Free time is over. But maybe when you're better we can do it again okay?" He asks, and Jack only nods, letting him tie him back to his same chair with brand new rope. He turns to his cart, and pulls out a syringe, and Jack doesn't even fight. "I'm sorry Jack." Mark whispers as he injects him, and Jack's body convulses like always, shutting out the light.

 

5 more days.

 

He only had to survive 5 more days.

* * *

 

"Honey do you think it's safe for you to go out alone like that? Isn't he dangerous?" Celiné asks, and Jack takes her hands into his and smiles.

 

"I'll be fine. Tyler, Ethan, and Wade will be there every step of the way. I promise nothin' bad will happen. I love ye." He says, pulling her into a soft kiss and she hums with satisfaction.

 

"I hope so. I really do. I love you. Please come back home safely." She begs, and he reassures her with kisses and words. Finally, she lets go of him, and he follows Tyler out to the car.

 

"What's all the info we have?" Jack asks as he gets in, accepting the burger that Ethan hands him.

 

"He keeps his victims for a total of 12 days, torturing them and running 'checkups' on them. Then, by the end of the 12 days, if they aren't better, he kills them." Wade says, and Jack frowns.

 

"12 days? Why 12 days?"

 

"Must be of some importance to him." Ethan informs him, and he nods.

 

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Tyler asks as they drive, and Jack takes a breath an nods.

 

"We need ta. He's taken 8 victims Ty...we can't let him take another."

 

The rest of the ride is silent, and Jack says a small prayer that he will make it out alive.

 

He isn't doing this for himself, or Tyler, or Ethan, or Wade.

 

He's not doing this for the greater good.

 

He's doing this for Isabelle, and Ryder, and everyone in between.

 

He's doing this because he knows it's _right,_ not because it's _safe._

 

He looks at his crew and smiles, unbuckling his seat belt. "Wish me luck."

 

"Keep in touch." Wade says, and Jack knows what it means.

 

_Don't die._

 

"I'll try my best." Jack says, then he gets out of the car on shaky legs, turning to face the building before him as they pull off.

 

* * *

 

Jack wakes up gasping for air as he rocks in his chair, leg throbbing with fresh pain. Mark must hear him moving, because soon enough the door is opening and his face is peeping in.

 

"Feeling better detective?" He asks, and Jack struggles to get his breathing in order as he blinks. Mark approaches him slowly, kneeling in front of him and smacking his face lightly.

 

"Fine." Jack says with gritted teeth, and Mark smiles at him.

 

 

"You didn't scream this time. _Progress._ " Mark says, and the he stands back up and turns to his medical cart. "I'm proud of you, Jack. You're my best patient yet."

 

"Can I go home early then?" Jack says desperately, and Mark turns to him with a pill, laughing.

 

"Of course not, detective. You aren't fully healed yet." He says, taking the pill into his mouth and leaning down to Jack, kissing him and forcing the pill down his throat nearly choking him to death. He pulls back with a somber look, then lifts a glass of water to Jack's lips as he chuckles. "There ya go. Drink up."

 

Jack coughs when the glass is pulled away and gasps for air again. "Wh-what did ye give me?"

 

"Ssshhh, don't worry about that. Just let it work, okay? It won't make you seize like my needle does. Ill go get you some food."

 

"N-no...please..." Jack slurs, and his vision is blurry around the edges as he watches Mark retreat. He hasn't passed out yet, but his head rolls around on his neck as if it were loose, and he can't see a goddamn thing.

 

When Mark finally comes back, Jack's eyes are barely open and his head his being held up by firm hands. He can feel food in his mouth, and he has enough energy to swallow it.

 

"There ya go. You only have 4 more days Jack, it'll all be okay then."

 

"Whatre ye gon do to me..." Jack says, and he hopes it was coherent.

 

"I'm going to cure you. And if I can't...I'll kill you."

 

Jack wanted to argue...he really did...but he didn't have the energy.

 

The last thing he sees is Mark's eyes watching him before he blacked out.

 

* * *

 

"Hello?" Jack calls out, gun tucked safely into his belt as he takes soft steps through it.

 

"You came." A deep voice called out, and Jack spun around to find its source.

 

"Where are ye?" Jack calls out, and he can hear the quiet static in the air.

 

"Don't worry, we'll be together soon. Did you get my gift?"

 

Jack pulled the necklace out of his back pocket, staring it down. "Yeah. I got it. What does it mean?"

 

"I'll tell you in due time." He giggled, and Jack felt uneasy. "I thought I told you to come alone?"

 

"I _am_ alone."

 

"Not quite. But if you prefer to lie to me," He says, sighing over the intercom. "I'll just have to teach you some manners."

 

"Yer not doin' anythin' but goin' to jail." Jack says sternly, then he hears footsteps.

  

"What a shame that won't be happening, detective." The man says, laughing as he sneaks up behind him and plunges a syringe into Jack's neck, causing him to seize and fall to the ground. "Tsk tsk, maybe next time."

* * *

 

Jack wakes up to the sound of yelling and screaming, opening red and bloodshot eyes to see Mark struggling with someone. 

 

"Get him untied! Quick!" A commanding voice said, and Jack could have cried. 

 

_Tyler._

 

"Jack? Jack!" He heard Ethan screaming, using a knife to cut his ropes off as he tries to keep him conscious.

 

"YOU LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Mark screams, still trying to fight Tyler and Wade off as Ethan finally steadies Jack and calls for help.

 

With one swift hit Mark falls to the ground, laughing and struggling as Tyler pins him. "Gotcha you son of a bitch."

 

"Haha, it was a fun road, wasn't it? That's okay." Mark smiles, and Jack eyes him wearily as he's lifted on a stretcher. "He's cured."

 

Jack watches as Tyler cuffs him, and Ethan follows him out to the ambulance where he asks about him.

 

"He's pretty beat up and malnourished, and he had a pretty nasty gash on his leg. He may be in the hospital for a few weeks but, he should be okay." The EMT says, and Ethan thanks them for their time as he walks up to Jack.

 

"Ye found me..." He says weakly, and Ethan smiles.

 

"You caught the bad guy. I told ya you would." Ethan laughs, and Jack smirks.

 

"I guess I did. How did ye get in?"

 

"We have our ways." He says, then he smiles brightly as Celinè rushes to Jack's side just before they pull him into the ambulance.

 

"Christ on a fucking bike Jack are you okay???"

 

Jack laughs at her as she frets, giving her a small smile. "Not a scratch."

 

She laughs despite the tears falling from her eyes as she quickly thanks Ethan and boards the ambulance.

* * *

 

**2 weeks later**

 

"Why did you do it?" Tyler asks, and Mark only smiles.

 

"Everyone needs to learn how to overcome something. Do you have something you want to overcome, officer?"

 

"That's none of your business."

 

"Oh, c'mon. What are you afraid of?" Mark chuckles, and Tyler looks at him blankly.

 

"The locket. It was inscribed with Detective McLoughlin's birthday. Why?"

 

"Call it...infatuation. I wanted to change someone's life, and he wanted to change mine. We are one in the same if you think about it." He says, idly playing with his thumbs.

 

"Why hold your victims for 12 days? Why not kill them instantly?" 

 

"My dear officer, I can't help them any longer if they're dead. Alot can change in 12 days. 12 months. 12 years." He growls through gritted teeth, and Tyler had found the trigger that set off this loaded gun.

 

"Did your drowning incident happen when you were 12?" Tyler asks, and Mark laughs loudly.

 

"Trying to figure me out officer? You should leave that up to your detectives." He teases, and Tyler holds back his bite. "Tell me when Jack comes back. Until then," He holds up his handcuffs sarcastically, "I'll be going back to my cell."

 

Tyler stares him down for a bit, then motions for him to be returned to his cell.

 

As he walks past him, Tyler could swear he saw a hint of remorse in Mark's eyes, but that couldn't be.

 

He wouldn't let himself believe that.

 


	2. ***BONUS CHAPTER***

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack finally faces his number one fear.
> 
> Mark.
> 
> Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone requested that I post this? So here ya go :)

His footsteps are slow and loud, echoing through the empty halls. 

 

He sort of wishes he'd been placed with everyone else, that way the silence didn't get to him that much.

 

Unfortunately, he was too dangerous.

 

They feared he'd escape again.

 

They didn't even want him to visit.

 

He was strong, though. He was...curious.

 

So he takes a seat, tracing his name on the table before him and taking measured breaths with his eyes closed.

 

He can hear him take a seat, he can feel his eyes, the smirk on his face.

 

He knows he has Jack right where he wants him.

 

"You came." He smiles, reaching out to touch Jack's hand.

 

Jack lets him.

 

He opens his eyes, face like stone. "Of course."

 

"Where is it?"

 

Jack uses his free hand to reach into his coat and pull it out to show him, leaning forward when Mark beckons him to do so.

 

It shines in the sunlight, and Mark's eyes sparkle in something akin to arousal.

"I never gave it up."

 

"Of course not," Mark grins, and he leans forward to stroke Jack's face.

 

Jack lets him.

 

"You're cured."

 

"Why did you do this to me?" Jack whispers, a sob behind his voice, but he won't show weakness.

 

He already has too much control over his mind.

 

"Helped you? Well, because you needed it, sweetheart. Look at you now. So obedient," He exhales, leaning further over the table as far as the cuffs will let him. "So gorgeous." Jack flinches away, but Mark's grip is iron. "What do you say?"

 

"Thank you."

 

"Good. Did you get my letters?"

 

"No, my wife threw them away."

 

"You told her?"

 

Jack blinks away any tears that threaten to fall.

 

He's in too deep.

 

He shouldn't have come here.

 

It's like Deja Vu.

 

"No, I didn't. We live together, and she found out. I--I'm--"

 

"Save it. You know, you were my favorite, Jack. I trusted you more than the others...but I guess all good things must come to an end." Mark sighs, stroking his face one last time with a smirk. "Don't worry, I still love you."

 

"You never loved me."

 

"Maybe not. I guess we'll never know, detective."

 

Jack chuckles and slaps his hand away, standing up with shaky legs.

 

This had been enough.

 

"Stay out of my life."

 

Mark just keeps his smirk, sighing while the guards come to retrieve him. "Of course. A deal is a deal. But, Jack?"

 

"What?"

 

"2790. I'll remember that, always."

 

"Fuck you."

 

"See you soon my love!" Mark giggles as he's pulled away, and Jack's head is spinning like crazy.

 

He needs to get out of here.

 

He makes his way back to the front, and Wade is standing off to the side, a questioning look on his face. "Jack?"

 

Jack winces, fluffing his hair as he looks off to the side. "Let's keep this between us."

 

Wade grimaces, but it evens out and he nods. "Have a great day, Detective."

 

Jack pats his shoulder, tears welling up in his eyes. "I'll try."

 

 


End file.
